"You want me to what?" The old man looked appalled. Glorfindel did not consider himself weak, but he shrank back a bit at the glare he was receiving from beneath the blue hat. "Absolutely not! I refuse. I am a wizard, not a canary! Wizards, my dear Glorfindel, do not sing." Gandalf struck the ground with his staff imperiously and turned to walk away.
"Certainly you could make an exception," Glorfindel began, trying to keep the note of pleading out of his voice. Peter had been very clear about this part -- Gandalf was to sing one of Bilbo's songs. 'It makes him seem more grandfatherly,' he had said. This Gandalf didn't seem grandfatherly at all, Glorfindel thought with a gulp. "Just a measure or two …"
"No, no, no!"
The Elf sighed. He didn't know what the Istar's aversion to singing was, but he was going to have to find some way of persuading him. "I'm sure we could arrange something, Mithrandir. A payment, perhaps?"
Gandalf turned, and his blue eyes focused icily on Glorfindel's face. "Wizards cannot be bought." He said sternly, and resumed his dignified stomping away.
"There must be something! I have gold." Gandalf did not acknowledge him. "Jewels?" Still nothing. "Pipeweed?" The wizard stopped abruptly.
Slowly revolving until he faced Glorfindel again, Gandalf gave him a hard look. "How much pipeweed?" The golden-haired Elf smiled.
"As much as you could ever want." Gandalf's eyebrows knitted, but Glorfindel could tell he had won. The wizard had all but agreed. Finally, after a few seconds of what the Elf could tell was a vicious internal battle, Gandalf nodded gruffly. Glorfindel's smile widened.
"Okay, so do you recall the Old Walking Song?"
A/N: I know it's been awhile. This was too great to just abandon! Please don't hate me ... I'll try to keep going. Best wishes!
